


I'll Wait For You

by Sweetgirl2019



Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Angst, Drama, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-05
Updated: 2019-11-19
Packaged: 2021-01-23 10:23:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 8,897
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21318619
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sweetgirl2019/pseuds/Sweetgirl2019
Summary: Ian and Mickey get into a fight that lands Mickey in solitary before the surprise news of Ian's early release. With time running out, he makes a promise and hopes that Mickey will believe him before he leaves. Can they finally be together without heartbreak after Mickey follows him to freedom?
Relationships: Ian Gallagher & Mickey Milkovich, Ian Gallagher/Mickey Milkovich
Comments: 7
Kudos: 78





	1. ONE

**Author's Note:**

> What can I say? I got inspired by all the filming pics we've seen. I know I have other stories that haven't been updated yet. I'll get them all updated before I head to Chicago on the weekend. Never been before and super excited because it's my birthday too! Would love to see some filming while I'm there :)

*****

Sitting with his back against the wall, Ian watched as Mickey stood at the small sink, rinsing out the toothpaste from his mouth. The quiet gurgling had been the only noise since Mickey had returned from his three day stint in solitary. Watching on in silence, Ian thought back to the beginning, when Mickey had surprised him as his cellmate all those months before. They had never publicized their relationship inside prison walls but behind closed doors, every moment had been spent together. Horsing around, having sex or merely sleeping, they touched at every chance.

Sighing, Ian ran a hand through his hair, watching as Mickey stared at his own reflection in the mirror. Eventually, days had bled into weeks and weeks into months. Their cell, once a refuge to be together again, now felt like a noose of suffocation. Ian had thought as much, telling Mickey that space was what they needed. An argument and a shiv later, Mickey had been locked away in solitary. Three days on his own in their cell, lying alone in a bed without Mickey’s body against his chest, Ian had realized his mistake. He had wanted their arguments to end, for them to have some distance to bring them closer together again but Mickey had seen it the wrong way. Looking up, Ian realized how wrong his approach had been. After all his past mistakes, his errors in judgment and the heartache he had caused, he scolded himself for not seeing it sooner. Mickey’s insecurities were all too real when it came to them and Ian understood the role he had played in forming those doubts. Despite his good intentions, Mickey had seen the request as Ian putting the breaks once more. Knowing of his surprise early release had made things even harder.

“Mick,” he started, pushing himself to the edge of the bed so his feet could hit the ground. “Can we talk?”

“About what?” Mickey shrugged, wiping his face with a towel.

“Can you just look at me for a second?”

Taking a deep breath, Mickey turned around towards him, his face schooled into careful indifference. “What?”

Smiling in a way that he hoped showed his regret, Ian reached out to grab onto Mickey’s lowered jumper, pulling the arms that were tied around his waist. Mickey stayed rooted for a brief pause before walking forward the few steps. With his head tilted up, Ian watched him for a long moment, his arms reaching to wrap around Mickey’s legs in a loose hold.

“The shit that happened, what I said, I didn’t mean it the way it came out.”

“Don’t worry about it, Gallagher,” Mickey shrugged, untangling himself and putting a foot of space between them. “This shit was fun while it lasted but it’s not like we were living in fucking paradise or something.”

“Mick,” Ian said, rising to his feet.

He made a move to step forward but Mickey took a step back instead. Swallowing the sudden hurt that filled him, Ian stood frozen by the bed, his face morphing into helpless regret.

“You’re out tomorrow and I’m gonna be here for a bit. Not gonna fucking expect anything.”

“What the hell are you talking about?” Ian asked, his brows pinched in confusion.

“Had some time to think this shit over in solitary,” Mickey shrugged. “I want you to want to do what you want.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

“It means do whatever the fuck you want when you get out,” Mickey snapped. “Go to Boystown, find a boyfriend, fuck an old timer or some new guy you meet at the Alibi. I’m not fucking holding you to anything.”

“Mickey, where the fuck is this coming from?” Ian rushed forward, crowding him by the wall. “When I said we needed space, I meant for a few hours to get a breather so we would stop arguing. I didn’t mean I wanted this to end.”

“What the fuck’s it matter anyway?” Mickey said, moving away towards his bed. “Told you, not fucking holding you to anything. Sure as shit not gonna ask you to wait. Do whatever, man.”

Ian felt a slight panic rise inside him as he whirled around. “I’m not breaking up with you! I want to _be_ with you.”

The buzzer sounded, cutting his desperate words off as the door to their cell sprang open. Pulling his jumper straight, Mickey buttoned midway up his chest and glanced over.

“I got a game with Carlos. Lots of fucking smokes for me to win,” he muttered before walking out.

“Fuck!” Ian snapped, his fist colliding with the wall.

Dropping his forehead against the cement, he closed his eyes and let the silence wash over him. As much as the release had been a surprise, with Ian being let go three weeks ahead of schedule, he blamed himself for Mickey’s walls lifting again. When the noise around him dimmed, signalling the emptiness of the cells around him, he dragged himself away from the small room and made his way through the corridor. Before he could reach the end of the hall where guards were waiting to lead him outside, his eyes caught on another prisoner, sitting in his cell at the far end of the corridor, nose pressed low inside a book. Ignoring the yard time they were allotted, he moved across the open space before he could stop himself.

“Something you need?”

“You’ve been good to Mickey and to me,” Ian started, pausing as the prisoner lifted his stare.

“He’s my nephew,” the man finally said, closing the book and leaning back on his bed.

“You know him and me are together and you never said anything to anyone in here,” Ian shrugged. “Prisoner bitch relationships, the guys don’t give a shit but if someone’s actually gay, whole different story.”

“You going somewhere with this?”

“John,” Ian sighed, taking a step forward. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“He’s my _nephew_,” John repeated. “I’m his Mother’s brother, kid. Not Terry’s.”

He rose to his feet to put his book away, taking a moment to himself before turning back.

“I don’t give a shit how Mickey gets his dick wet,” John snorted. “Don’t need to hear no fucking details about the two of you but that don’t mean I’m narcing the kid out. He’s still my fucking family and that means something. Terry’s a piece of shit, always has been. I ain’t him.”

“I know,” Ian said. “I know and I’m grateful as hell.”

“So tell me what you need,” John waved his hand in the air. “You’re getting out tomorrow. You gonna ask me to look at for Mick?”

“Well, that, yeah,” Ian nodded. “But I was hoping you could help me get something before I go.”

John watched him for a long moment, his gaze thoughtful, before finally giving in. “What do you need?”

  
********

With his arms raised above his head in a stretch, Mickey made his way back from the courtyard with his pocket full of cigarettes. Carlos had always been an easy target and the game plus dinner had allowed him to keep his mind focused away from Ian. All those months together, sleeping in the same bed every night, kissing in the dark, Ian’s arms wrapped around him, he had never felt more peace than in those moments. The love he had for Ian was like the blood that flowed through his veins. He didn’t know how to exist without it. When Ian had mentioned space, everything inside Mickey had crumbled. It felt like the doorsteps to the Gallagher house all over again, before Sammi had chased him with a gun with Ian looking on without care. It felt like the prison visit when Ian had been on the other side of the glass. It felt like Mexico. A part of Mickey knew he was letting his fears get the best of him, his insecurities running wild inside his head. He didn’t doubt Ian’s feelings but being apart for months after Ian’s release was bound to make things different. As much as it killed him, he wouldn’t ask him to wait. Not again.

Taking the final steps, he walked inside their cell and froze. Sitting on the bottom bunk, Ian was waiting with a gentle smile on his face.

“The fuck you been, Gallagher?” Mickey snapped, waiting until the door had locked before taking a step forward. “Why the fuck did you miss dinner?”

“I had something I needed to do.” 

Mickey watched him for another moment before looking away. “Whatever, man. Get some sleep. Big fucking day tomorrow.”

“Mick,” Ian started, rising to his feet.

“Look, I’m fucking tired and I don’t wanna talk about this shit anymore,” Mickey groaned. “Just go to sleep and let me do the fucking same.”

Crawling onto his bunk, Mickey shoved the thin blanket to cover midway up his legs, turning to face the wall with his arms curled beneath his pillow. Ian waited for another moment before climbing up onto the second bunk, dropping his head down as he waited. Silence dragged on until the guards did their final count for the night. Once the lights were switched off, he quietly lowered himself back to the ground, using the dim light shining through their window to focus in the dark. Hesitating for a final moment, he moved onto the bed, sliding up behind Mickey until their legs were pressed together.

“The fuck you doing?” Mickey asked, keeping his gaze on the wall in front.

Instead of answering, Ian lifted the covers and moved even closer, letting his left arm wrap around Mickey’s chest. Closing the last bit of space between them, he lowered his lips to Mickey’s neck and kissed the spot behind his ear, sensing the small smile that curved his boyfriend’s lips. Quickly catching himself, Mickey cleared his throat and twisted his head, confusion lighting his eyes.

“I love you,” Ian blurted, his heart warming when he saw the emotion play across Mickey’s face. “Mick, I love you. I want to be with you when you get out of here. I’m not gonna find a hookup or a boyfriend when I leave. _You’re_ my boyfriend. I want _you_.”

Closing his eyes, Mickey licked his lips before looking up again. “I’m not asking you to wait.”

“I know,” Ian nodded, his thumb stroking the skin over Mickey’s heart where his name was still inked after so many years. “I don’t deserve to hear you ask me that again but I’m telling you, Mick. I’m waiting for you. If my dick gets lonely, I’ll close my eyes and think of your ass and use my fucking hand.”

“Fuck you,” Mickey chuckled but the blush on his face gave him away.

“Look at me,” Ian said, all trace of humor gone from his voice as their eyes locked again. “I know I fucked up before. I fucked up so many times and I know me saying sorry won’t make any of that go away. It won’t make you believe me so I’ll show you. I’ll prove it to you.”

Reaching down, he pressed a kiss over Mickey’s heart, smiling when he felt a hand move to the hold the back of his neck.

“It’s you and me, Mick. Inside or outside these fucking walls, it’s you and me.”

His heart broke and healed at the same time when he watched the hopeful light return to Mickey’s eyes.

“Shut up and get over here,” Mickey whispered, pulling his head down to fit their lips together.

The kiss was slow but heated, their tongues moving together in the warm space. They took comfort from the closeness, neither willing to move away.

“Fuck, I don’t wanna go,” Ian panted.

Mickey’s eyes were glazed as he stared up at him. “Stop talking and get the fuck on me.”

He pulled Ian back down, the second kiss hard enough that both groaned. Ian gave into the kiss for another minute, their bodies rubbing together before finally pulling away.

“Take your clothes off,” he said, his smile growing when Mickey quickly shed the thin garments off his body.

Reaching down, Ian pressed his palm across Mickey’s chest before sliding his hand lower. The answering moan made his heartbeat thump even louder. Groaning at the noise, he trailed his lips down the perfect stretch of neck that felt like an addiction.

“Quit the teasing and get the fuck on me,” Mickey growled.

Grinning at the impatience, Ian moved to straddle Mickey’s legs. He pressed three gentle kisses over Mickey’s heart, smiling at the muttered curses overhead before leaning back.

“I wanna give you something,” he started.

“You’re about to give me something already, Gallagher.”

Laughing at the words, Ian shook his head and got to his feet. Searching under his pillow, he reached for the item he wanted, smiling when he felt Mickey’s hand caress his thigh as he waited. With a nervous breath, Ian climbed back onto the bed, straddling Mickey’s legs again as their eyes locked in the darkness.

“You gonna tell me what the fuck it is or make me guess?”

Instead of answering, Ian used his free hand to take Mickey’s in his own, pressing his lips against the rough knuckles.

“The fuck is up with you and all this romantic shit?” Mickey muttered but his flushed skin was visible through the dim lighting.

“Do you love me?” Ian asked.

“You really need to fucking ask me that?” Mickey sighed, ignoring the fluttering inside him. “Yes, I fucking love you. Pretty sure that was fucking clear, me showing up here in prison and all that.”

“That was a big fucking declaration, Mick,” Ian smiled. “Really big and I know I didn’t deserve it back then. I fucked up so many times.”

“Didn’t we hash this shit out already?” Mickey growled, moving to sit up with Ian still seated on his legs. 

“Yeah, we did,” Ian nodded, his face solemn with regret. “Doesn’t mean I don’t still hate the choices I made.”

Instead of answering, Mickey stayed silent, giving Ian the space he needed to collect his thoughts.

“I fucked up and you love me anyway,” Ian smiled, his eyes glazing over with tears.

“The fuck, Ian? You're freaking me out,” Mickey asked, leaning closer, no trace of anger in his voice.

“You love me, Mick, and I love you too. I love you so fucking much,” Ian’s voice cracked on the end as he pressed their foreheads together.

They stayed close together for several moments, the silence bringing comfort they both craved. Leaning back, Ian let his smile widen as he opened his empty hand. Sitting across his palm was a single platinum band. Mickey’s eyes zeroed in on the ring, eyes wide in shock before he snapped his gaze up.

“The fuck is that?” 

“What the fuck do you think it is?" Ian chuckled. “When you get out of here in four months, I wanna marry you.”

“You wanna…,” Mickey’s voice trailed off as he swallowed hard. “Fuck, you wanna do what?”

“I wanna marry you. I want us to go down to the courthouse like a couple old queens and say our fucking vows. I wanna be your husband, Mick, and I want you to be mine.”

“Ian,” Mickey stuttered. “You can’t just say that shit.”

“Why the fuck not? Do you not want that?” Ian asked, his nerves quickly returning.

“You’re getting out tomorrow. I still have four fucking months,” Mickey muttered. “Who the fuck knows what’ll happen between now and then?”

“Mick, you’re not listening to me,” Ian tried cutting him off.

Sliding out from under him, Mickey grabbed his shorts and pulled them up before pacing the small stretch of space between walls.

“Maybe you’ll go out there and meet someone new,” he rambled. “Maybe you’ll realize this shit isn’t what you want like last time or the time before that.”

Whirling around, Mickey pointed at the ring in Ian’s hand, eyes wide open and wild.

“Then you’ll regret giving me that fucking thing and shit will be even more fucked up,” he laughed without humor. 

“Do you not believe me when I say I love you?” Ian asked, his hurt bleeding through his words.

“Yes, I fucking believe you,” Mickey sighed.

“Then why won’t you say yes?”

His voice was quiet in the dark as he stared up at his nervous boyfriend. They watched one another for several moments, neither sure of what to say. Mickey was the first to give in, his shoulders dropping as his eyes fell onto the shiny ring.

“You really mean that?”

His words were barely above a whisper. Seeing the look in Mickey’s eyes, Ian took a breath and rose from the bed, slowly closing the distance between them.

“I wanna marry you. I want it official,” he said before a small smile curved his lips. “It means thick and thin, good times, bad, sickness, health and all that shit.”

Mickey snorted at the words, his eyes dropping to the ring again.

“I want you to be my _husband_, Mick,” Ian repeated. “Fuck everything and everyone else. Fuck anyone who’ll have a problem with it. It’s you and me. Been you and me since I was fifteen. So much shit got in our way. Your Father, where we live, my bipolar, me being such a fucking idiot. But I’m done with the excuses. I want to be with you, I wanna marry you and I’ll fucking wait for you.”

“Fuck,” Mickey whispered, closing his eyes from the overwhelming emotion. “Stop saying all that, Gallagher.”

“You’ve been it for me since I was fifteen. I want to be with you and I want you to want me too.”

“When the fuck haven’t I wanted you?” Mickey chuckled, ignoring the wetness of his own eyes as he yanked Ian towards him.

Their lips crashed together, tongues taking in each other’s taste as their arms moved to wrap around each other.

"Is that a yes?" Ian asked, his smile hopeful as he leaned back.

"What do you think?" Mickey said, wiping his eyes with the back of his hand.

Biting his lip to conceal his excitement, Ian slipped the ring onto Mickey's finger.

“You know I ain’t gonna wear this shit in here,” Mickey snorted, his words enough to light the mood between them.

“Yeah, I know,” Ian chuckled. “Just hold onto it. When you get out, we’ll make it official then.”

“We’re nuts,” Mickey shook his head, staring down at the ring in disbelief. “We’re fucking nuts, you know that?”

“Yeah, well, now you’re really mine,” Ian grinned.

“Gallagher,” Mickey’s voice grew quiet. “When the fuck haven’t I been?”

Swallowing the hefty weight of emotions that followed the quiet declaration, Ian pulled them towards the bed. They shed their clothes in record speed, falling back onto the bunk in a mix of tangled limbs. Knocking Mickey’s legs open with his own, Ian reached down and slid a finger in, the answering moan making his own eyes flutter.

“Get in me,” Mickey groaned between kisses.

“It’s been three days, Mick. I’m not gonna fucking hurt you,” Ian whispered against his lips.

“Gallagher,” Mickey groaned, reaching down to stop the moving hand. “I need to fucking feel it when you go so get in me.”

Ignoring the sudden sadness that washed over him, Ian slid his arms under Mickey’s back, lifting his body to press against his own before pushing in. The stretch was rough but Mickey tilted his head back and closed his eyes, feeling every inch. Tempted by the stretch of neck below him, Ian trailed his lips across the warm skin, leaving bruises low enough for the jumper to hide them.

“Fuck me,” Mickey panted, opening his eyes to lock their gazes together as his hands framed Ian’s face.

With their hearts hammering between them, Ian lifted on his elbows and started moving. When Mickey’s ringed hand settled gently over Ian’s heart, the touch held a silent vow between them. Overcome by his own emotions, Ian pressed their foreheads together and breathed in the intoxicating scent. Their bodies moved together, in and out, arms locked around each other’s bodies, afraid to let any space between them. With a final sharp thrust that sent Mickey’s head craning backwards, they fell over the after one another. Panting in the darkness, they stayed connected under the blanket, neither willing to pull away. Their breathing slowly calmed, lips reaching for any stretch of skin they could kiss before Ian slipped out.

Reaching down for the discarded tank he’d thrown to the floor, Ian cleaned their lower bodies and crawled behind Mickey to spoon him from behind like always. It had warmed Ian’s heart the first time they had fallen asleep together that way. For all the strength he showed the world around him, letting Ian hold him in the silent moments made him love Mickey even more. Leaning in, Ian pressed another kiss to the same spot from before.

“Gonna fucking miss that,” Mickey broke the silence.

“Four more months,” Ian said, snuggling even closer as his kisses stretched across Mickey’s arm and shoulder.

“Can’t believe you fucking proposed in prison,” Mickey snorted.

“It was romantic and you know it,” Ian grinned.

Turning his head, Mickey looked up with a small smile on his face. “Took you long enough, Gallagher.”

Understanding the meaning behind the words, Ian’s smile softened as he pressed their lips together in a final chaste kiss. His mind refused to think about the morning and the goodbye that they would share. Closing his eyes, he let himself feel every press of their bodies, his arms wrapping tighter around Mickey chest. When Mickey’s ringed hand moved to cover his, all Ian could do was smile.

  
********

They took their turns washing up, neither speaking as the weight of the morning settled in the air between them. Before either could break the silence, the doors buzzed open and a guard they got along with stepped inside the entryway. 

“Gallagher, time to go.”

Looking over at Mickey, Ian nodded. “Can we have a minute?”

Watching them in understanding, the guard nodded and moved into the hallway, shutting the door a few inches behind him.

“I don’t want to go,” Ian started, closing the space between them. 

“You’re free, Gallagher,” Mickey smiled. “Just four fucking months, remember?”

Before Ian could comment, Mickey pulled his face towards him and crashed their lips together. They groaned as their tongues licked inside each other’s mouths, desperate for a lasting taste.

“Fuck,” Mickey snapped as Ian pressed their foreheads together.

“I can punch one of the prison guards on my way out. Delay the release for a bit?” Ian offered.

“Fuck off,” Mickey chuckled. “Get out of here, Firecrotch.”

Instead of laughing at the nickname like Mickey wanted, Ian dragged him in for a final kiss. Pulling away when the door opened, Mickey ran a hand through his hair and stepped back.

“Go on, get the fuck out of here.”

With a final glance, Ian followed the guard out of their cell, leaving Mickey to fall backwards onto his bunk as silence engulfed the space around him. Everything outside moved in slow motion, with Ian changing back into his civilian clothes, signing his release papers and collecting his belongings. When he made the final walk towards the entrance and moved through the gates, the sight of Lip waiting outside with a giant grin finally made him break. Lip was at his side before his legs could crumble, pulling him into a hard embrace.

“It’s over, Ian. It’s over.”

“I don’t want to fucking leave him,” he stumbled through his words as he crushed his forehead against his brother’s shoulder.

Instead of answering with a humorless jab, Lip pulled back and grabbed the sides of his face. “You’re free and in four months, Mickey will be free too.”

Smiling at the words, Ian reached to wrap his older brother in a proper hug that lasted longer than either would admit.

“Now come on, you emotional basket case,” Lip snorted. “Time to meet your nephew.”

Inside, with the rest of the prisoners making their way towards breakfast, Mickey leaned his head back against the wall. Ignoring the commotion outside as the prison sprang to life, he looked down towards the promise wrapped tight around his finger and closed his eyes.


	2. TWO

*****

Drumming his hand on the table, Ian glanced around himself at the open visiting room. With Mickey keeping out of trouble in the two weeks since Ian had been freed, they’d been given the chance to have their visits in the open instead of behind glass. The other prisoners around him were busy with their loved ones while three guards stood at different corners of the room. When the door finally buzzed open, Ian snapped his gaze forward and smiled when Mickey walked out. The smirk and swagger were there in full confidence as Mickey made his way over, taking the spot across from Ian at the table.

“Hey,” Mickey started, his words carefree but the shine in his eyes easily gave him away. “You look good.”

“You look good too,” Ian’s smile softened. “How’s it going in here?”

“Same shit as yesterday,” Mickey snorted. “You know, when I called and you talked my fucking ear off.”

“Can’t help it,” Ian shrugged as he leaned forward. “I hate that you’re still in here.”

“Just over three months to go,” Mickey reminded. “Fuck all that shit. You get a job yet?”

Ian took a breath and nodded. “Surprisingly, my parole officer’s not a total dick. After we hung up yesterday, he got me into this ten week certification program to be an electrician.”

“Gonna be all official again?” Mickey smirked. “Get your name sewed onto your uniform and all that?”

“Fuck you. It's not that bad,” Ian chuckled. “I’m liking it so far and the guy training me, Paul, he’s pretty decent.”

“Tell Paul to keep his fucking hands to himself.”

Smile growing, Ian leaned across the table, making sure no one was watching when he spoke. “Paul is a fifty year old guy with a wife of thirty years, three kids and four grandkids. Pretty sure he doesn’t want to suck my dick.”

“Whatever,” Mickey muttered.

Ian paused for a moment, taking in Mickey’s tense shoulders until his own smile softened. “I miss you too.”

The words were enough to quiet them both as Mickey took a deep breath and met his eyes. They stared at one another for a long time, the silence between them soothing. Finally tearing his eyes away, Ian took a moment to glance around them. When he saw everyone else was occupied, he reached forward and slipped his fingers between Mickey’s.

“The fuck you doing?” Mickey whispered, shooting his gaze around the room.

“I just wanted to touch you,” Ian spoke quietly. “I miss you, Mick. I miss you so fucking much.”

Instead of answering with a humorous jab, Mickey gripped his fingers tighter as his shoulders dropped.

“Where do you keep the ring?” Ian asked.

With a private smile reserved just for them, Mickey reached under his collar and pulled a chain, exposing the ring hanging on the end. He let Ian’s eyes take in the silver band before safely tucking it back behind his jumpsuit.

“I wish we could have had a conjugal visit,” Ian blurted.

Mickey chuckled at the words and shook his head. “Fuck, you do miss me.”

“Yeah, I do,” Ian nodded with a quick lick of his lips. “I close my eyes and see you spread out over the bed, see myself fucking you over and over.”

“Would you fucking stop with that shit?” Mickey snapped, adjusting himself over the bench.

With a final squeeze, he pulled his hand away and twined his own fingers together. Ian’s smile saddened at the separation but he pulled back with understanding.

“I’m looking at apartments for us,” he said, the news catching Mickey by surprise. “I mean, I just figured you’d want us to have our own place instead of living with my crazy family.”

“Yeah, that works,” Mickey nodded, licking his lips with a nervous swipe. “See anywhere good?”

“Not yet,” Ian shook his head. “So far, all the shitty places I’ve seen have been rat or roach infested, drug dens or just falling the fuck apart. But Lip’s going with me again today.”

“Look at us,” Mickey said, his voice quiet. “Putting our big boy pants on, finding apartments and making plans and shit.”

“We lived together before,” Ian reminded.

“Didn’t turn out too well for us,” Mickey replied.

“No, it didn’t,” Ian sighed. “So much of that is on me.”

“Hey,” Mickey said, cutting him off. “You were sick. We got past all that shit.”

“Yeah, you forgave me,” Ian said, his smile sad. “You forgave me for cheating, for the porno, for taking Yev, for leaving you in prison. Hell, you even forgave me for Mexico.”

“Then why the fuck are we rehashing this shit now?”

“I guess I don’t forgive myself,” Ian’s voice was small.

“Fucking hell, Gallagher,” Mickey muttered as he leaned forward. “Look, you wanna know the truth? I fucking hated you for a long ass time. You pushed me to come out and then you did all that shit before you fucking left me in prison. So yeah, I hated you. But you were sick, Ian.”

“I wasn’t sick in Mexico,” Ian said, looking up with a sad glimmer in his eyes.

“We're fucking past all that. Why the fuck you bringing this up right now?” Mickey asked. “Why'd you even gimme that ring if all you wanna do is dig up all our old shit?”

“I’m not trying to dig up old shit,” Ian said hoarsely. “I just know how much I fucked up. I’m not gonna mess this up again.”

They stared at one another, the space between them charged. Mickey’s fingers twitched across the table, itching to reach out but wary of the crowd around them, he kept them firmly on his side.

“I love you,” Ian added, his voice barely above a whisper.

Shaking his head, Mickey finally reached out and flicked his arm. “Then let that shit stay buried.”

Ian nodded and looked up from under his lashes. Smirking at the full force of puppy eyes, Mickey leaned closer and sighed.

“Love you too.”

The words brought the light back to Ian’s face. Before he could open his mouth and comment, the buzzer sounded overhead, followed by whines from the other prisoners as they wrapped their visits up.

“Gotta go,” Mickey said, rising to his feet and moving around the table to stand close by Ian’s side. “When I fucking get out of here, I don’t give a shit where the fuck we are. We ain’t leaving the bed for a fucking week.”

“Guess you miss me too,” Ian smirked.

With a small breath, Mickey reached between them and tapped his knuckles over Ian’s heart. “You really gotta ask me that?”

He gave a wink and left the room before Ian could form a response. Running a hand through his hair, Ian stared at the door as it shut behind the final prisoner. When the guard gave him a glare for waiting too long, he shuffled out of the room and signed out. Exiting through the front gates, he glanced back at the prison a final time before making his way towards Lip in the parking lot.

“Mickey okay?” Lip asked once Ian had climbed inside the car.

“Yeah, he’s good,” he nodded absently.

“Then what’s with the face?”

“I just want him out of there,” Ian said, rolling his head towards his brother. “I want him out, I want him free, I want him home with me.”

“You gonna get all emotional now?” Lip snorted, lighting a smoke and handing another over.

“Fuck you and drive,” Ian said, letting the smoke settle in his lungs.

“You sure Mickey’s not getting his freak on inside with someone else?”

“Why the fuck would you say that to me?” Ian snapped, glaring at his brother who laughed and raised his hands.

“Don’t be so sensitive.”

“Look, him and me, this is it,” Ian started, the seriousness in his voice making Lip’s smirk fall away. “I love him and I wanna be with him. All that shit from before, all those mistakes, all the shit I did wrong, I hate it all but it got us here right now. When he gets out in three months, I wanna start my life with him. No more dicking around, wasting time. He’s it for me, Lip. He always fucking has been.”

“Jesus, alright,” Lip said. “Didn’t mean to strike a nerve.”

“I’ve loved him since I was fifteen. I know I still got a lot of shit to make up for but I can’t deal with anyone trying to fuck this up or saying shit about us.”

“Ian, I get it,” Lip said, reaching out to grab his arm. “I was just messing around. I get it.”

Taking a deep breath, Ian tossed his smoke out of the open window and pressed his head back against the seat.

“Look, you got a bunch of new listings for apartments. Let’s go check them out,” Lip offered. “Hopefully, we'll see some places with less rats and roaches and more bedroom space for you to fit a bed big enough so you can fuck each other’s brains out.”

Ian watched him for a moment before the smile returned to his face. “I fuck _him_.”

“Didn’t need to know that,” Lip shuddered as he pulled onto the road, the prison disappearing behind them.  
  
  
********  
  


Walking down the final corridor inside the prison, Mickey moved towards the open courtyard when a guard stepped in his path.

“Let’s go, Milkovich. You got visitors.”

“I just got back from visiting.”

“Does it look like I give a shit?” the guard snapped. “Move your ass.”

Following the guard down the hall, they made their way through security towards the back end of the building. When they reached a room reserved for legal visits, the guard swung the door open and pushed him inside.

“Fucking asshole,” Mickey muttered, looking up to see two men dressed in suits, seated at the table with files spread out.

“Mr. Milkovich?” the older of the two started as they showed their credentials. “I’m Agent Hansen with the FBI. This is Agent Williams with the DEA. Have a seat.”

Glancing at the door as it slid shut behind him, he turned back and took the empty chair across. “What I do to get this fucking visit?”

Hansen smirked as he opened the first file, twisting it around and pushing it across the table. Staring between the two men, Mickey gave in and leaned forward, eyes widening at the contents.

“Why the fuck you got a file on my Dad?”

“Your Father, Terry Milkovich, has been associating with a well known criminal organization whose network spans across the country,” Hansen explained. “Gun smuggling, drug and human trafficking, prostitution, the whole nine yards.”

“Yeah, my Dad’s a fucking peach,” Mickey snapped. “What the fuck you telling me this for?”

“The criminal element your Father is associated with has ties with the Colombian and Mexican cartels. These guys are heavily connected and incredibly bad news,” Williams added.

“We’ve been on the case for eighteen months but every time we’ve gotten close, the man we placed inside was discovered. We’ve lost two Agents and three informants this past year,” Hansen said. “These guys are ruthless and violent but also very smart. Trust is a big deal with them. They don’t let just anyone inside the inner circle.”

“Good to fucking know. What the fuck’s it gotta do with me?” Mickey stared between them.

“When your Father was last incarcerated, his cellmate was a Vadik Orlov who was high on the food chain before the Chicago Police arrested him on a murder charge. Your Father saved his life in prison and as a return for that favor, he wanted in with Orlov’s employers. Orlov vouched for him and when your Father was released, he was in,” Williams explained. “From all the surveillance and information we’ve gathered, he’s in pretty deep.”

“You’re our shot, Mr. Milkovich,” Hansen cut in. “You’re going to be our way in with this group.”

Mickey watched them for a moment before his laughter spilled out. “And you want me to go through my fucking Dad? The fucking guy hates my guts and the feeling’s fucking mutual. Get someone else, man. I don’t give a fuck about any of this shit.”

He pushed away from the table and shot to his feet. Before he could take two steps towards the door, Hansen’s voice made him spin back around.

“Do you remember your original prison sentence? For the attempted murder charge? Was it ten years? Fifteen?”

“There’s also the additional charge from your escape,” Williams added.

“Yes, of course, you did escape,” Hansen nodded. “If you were to sum all those years up, you’d be a man of middle age before you got out.”

“I fucking turned over evidence against the Cartel in Mexico to get years knocked off,” Mickey said, a feeling of dread building inside him.

“Yes, that’s right, you did,” Hansen smiled, the coldness in his eyes shining through. “You gave substantial evidence against the Juarez Cartel and in return, your sentence was reduced and your choice of incarceration was allowed.”

“I get out in three months,” Mickey said, watching the two men with a nervous gleam in his eyes.

“Will you, though?” Hansen asked. “One phone call and that little deal of yours will vanish.”

“The deal was fucking signed. You can’t just throw it out."

“We’re the Federal Government, son. We can do whatever we want,” Hansen’s smile widened. “If we deem you uncooperative, we can take that little deal of yours and draft a new one. Finding a Judge to sign off won’t be too much of a problem. With your resume, in and out of juvie, gun charges, assault on police officers, running a prostitution ring and attempted murder, no one will miss you if you get locked away for the rest of your life.”

“Fuck you,” Mickey spat. “You can’t fucking do that to me.”

“We really can but we don’t _have_ to do that,” Hansen said as he leaned back and pointed to the empty chair. “If you cooperate with us, you won’t have to wait three months to be out. We’ll have you released right now.”

Mickey stood his ground, frozen in his spot, refusing to budge. The Agents exchanged glances again before Hansen reached for a second file.

“You have a boyfriend, correct? Ian Gallagher, your former cellmate, released on parole two weeks ago?”

“Leave him alone,” Mickey growled.

“Cooperate with us and we’ll make sure that Mr. Gallagher never sees the inside of a prison cell ever again,” Hansen offered. “Refuse and maybe his next urine test will show positive for substance. Maybe an unregistered gun will slip between his things as he goes to work next time. He’s training to be an electrician, yes? Trying to start a clean, legitimate life. Would you want that all to go up in smoke?”

“You were here with Mr. Gallagher from day one,” Williams cut in. “We don’t know him personally. He may be able to take care of himself just fine. But what if he were incarcerated in a maximum security prison, far away from you? Do you think the cholos and other gangs will leave him be, just like that?”

“Or will he turn into someone’s bitch the moment he steps inside?” Hansen added.

“You fucking assholes,” Mickey spat, blinking through the sudden wetness in his eyes. “Leave him the fuck alone. Do whatever the fuck you want to me but leave him out of this shit.”

“We don’t want to threaten you, Mr. Milkovich. We don’t want to threaten Mr. Gallagher. But we need you to cooperate with us and if you don’t, well we painted a pretty vivid picture of the consequences for you just now,” Hansen shrugged. “So work with us. It’s the only option you have.”

Mickey’s shoulders dropped in defeat as he stood in silence, words lost. Running a hand through his hair, he bit his lip in anger before falling back into the chair.

“What the fuck do you want from me?”

The Agents smiled at one another before opening a third file.

“The intel we have shows that Dimitry Bierko is the guy in charge,” Hansen started. “Complete psychopath but he’s the one we want. His old man, Nikolai, still carries a weight but Dimitry handles all the ins and outs.”

“What the fuck does Terry do?” Mickey asked.

“Your Father handles the transportation of guns and narcotics. Dimitry has his own guys that manage the distribution,” Hansen explained. “Terry and his group are pretty careful and smart with transport which is surprising considering the trailer trash bottom feeders they are. No offense.”

Mickey raised his middle finger in the air, eyes glued on the file he was reading.

“But as smart as they are, we managed to get a lead on their transport route a while back,” Williams cut in.

“So why the fuck haven’t you arrested him?”

“We haven’t arrested him because as high as he is in the inner circle, he’s still very low on the criminal totem pole,” Hansen replied. “Do we want Mr. Milkovich arrested? Yes, we do. Again, no offense.”

“You see me shedding a tear over that fucking asshole?” Mickey muttered.

“Well, you’re going to have to change that attitude,” Hansen shook his head. “We’re after Dimitry. He’s the one we want. If you’re going to get in with this group, you need to fix things with Terry and fast.”

“You miss the part that he’s a fucking asshole in your files?” Mickey snapped. “That he tried to fucking kill me more than once? Him and me don’t have a ‘let’s go sing around the campfire' type of bond. We fucking hate each other.”

“You need to figure out a way to change that,” Williams said.

“Yeah, thanks for the fucking help,” Mickey sighed, pushing the file away as he leaned back in his chair. “He’s a homophobic prick on top of all his other shitty parts. Me being gay’s a bit of a fucking problem.”

“Then don’t be gay,” Williams replied.

“The fuck you just say?” Mickey spat.

“That’s not what he meant,” Hansen said, tossing his partner a glare before turning back. “He meant that maybe you could convince your Father that you’ve made changes in your life. That you and Mr. Gallagher are no longer involved.”

“So I should stop being gay?” Mickey snorted, the venom in his voice bleeding through. “Like it’s a fucking switch I can turn on and off?”

“Look, I don’t care how you convince your Father that you want back in but you have to do it one way or another,” Hansen snapped. “When we say Dimitry is a nasty piece of work, we don’t say that lightly. Their drugs are in schools right now. Kids as young as ten and twelve dealing, distributing, getting addicted. He has prostitution rings all around the State. Girls as young as fifteen being forced to sell themselves. We’ve done our due diligence, Mickey, and this is it. _You_ are it.”

They had a stare down that lasted several beats until Hansen leaned closer.

“Help us and you’ll get to walk out of here a free man right now. You’ll get to have a happy life with Mr. Gallagher when we’re done, free from your Father once and for all,” he said before his eyes narrowed. “But if you refuse or fuck with us in any way, we’ll nail you and your boyfriend to the fucking cross.”

Staring between the two faces, Mickey stayed silent for several seconds before finally giving in. “How the fuck do I know I can trust you?”

“We’ll draft a deal, have it signed,” Hansen said.

“Like the one I had last time?” Mickey asked.

The Agents gave him smiles that made Mickey want to knock them to the ground.

“Write it up,” he said instead.  
  
  
********  
  


“Ian, stop moping,” Lip rolled his eyes as they walked inside the Gallagher house.

Stubbing his cigarette out, Lip made his way towards the kitchen and gave Tami a quick kiss before lifting his son. The baby pressed his chubby hands at his Father’s cheeks, rolling his head backwards with a laugh. Ian stood at the doorway, not wanting to intrude on the moment as he watched them with a smile.

“Daddy Lip is here to rescue Mommy so she can take a shower,” Tami grinned as she rose to her feet. “He’s been fed, changed and burped. Enjoy Daddy time.”

With another kiss to Lip’s cheek, she waved at Ian and made her way upstairs, the bathroom door closing shut behind her.

“Still can’t believe you got a kid,” Ian said, walking over to take Fred’s tiny finger in his hands. “And I can’t believe you named your kid Fred.”

“Hey, I was fucking passing out from exhaustion when I filled out the forms,” Lip snorted. “This something you want?”

“What do you mean?” Ian asked, lifting Fred from his brother’s arms and making faces that had the baby laughing as he bounced up and down.

“I remember you with Yev when he was a baby, back when you and Mickey lived together,” Lip said, reaching for a water from the fridge. “You guys had your own weird as shit family unit going on.”

“Yeah, it was good for a while before everything went to shit,” Ian sighed. “Yev’s growing up with Lana now. She’s hardly here in the States anymore. Traveling with her rich husband all the time.”

“Isn’t he super old?”

Ian shrugged as he smiled down at the baby. “Mick gets letters sometimes. He let me read the first one but kept the others to himself. He’ll never admit it but he misses his kid a lot.”

Lip watched in silence as Ian walked the baby over to the bassinet, gently laying him down.

“You want something like that with him?” he asked after a while.

“What, a family?” Ian scoffed. “Who the hell would give _us_ a kid?”

“That’s not what I asked,” Lip said quietly.

Ian stared at him for a moment before taking a seat at the kitchen table. “I gave him a ring before I left. His uncle helped get one for me inside.”

“You proposed?” Lip choked on his water. “What the fuck? You never said anything.”

“I’m telling you now,” Ian chuckled. “When he gets out, we’re getting married. Fucking finally.”

“Holy shit,” Lip said, moving towards the basinet and peeking down at his sleeping son. “That’s why you want the apartment so bad?”

“Figured you guys wouldn’t want to watch us going at it all the time,” Ian snorted.

“Fucking right,” Lip grinned. “Well fuck, alright. The apartments today really sucked. We’ll go again tomorrow after your training.”

Smiling at his brother, Ian rose to his feet and moved towards the stairs. “I’m gonna jump in the shower when Tami gets out.”

Lip waved him off and watched as Ian quietly made his way to the second floor. Grabbing his towel and a clean change of clothes, he walked inside the bathroom Tami had vacated and locked the door behind him. Switching the shower back on to boiling hot, he stripped from his clothes and stepped inside. As the scorching spray spread across his skin, he let his hands trail down his chest before stopping over his heart. He missed Mickey more than his mind or heart could fathom. All he wanted was to hold his boyfriend in his arms, to be free outside the prison walls and love each other without worry for the first time. After everything they had been through, all the heartache, pain and separation, they finally had the chance to be together and Ian made a silent vow to make sure nothing stopped them.

Walking out of the shower twenty minutes later, he ran the towel over his hair and made his way back to the main floor. Lip and Tami were at the door, the baby sleeping soundly in his Mother’s arms.

“Where you guys going?” Ian frowned. “I thought we were gonna grab some dinner.”

Tami gave him a sweet smile and walked out of the house.

“We’re gonna head over to a friend of Tami’s for the night,” Lip replied. “I called Carl. He’s gonna crash with his girlfriend of the week. Debbie, Franny and Liam are gonna stay with Kev and V.”

“There a reason you guys are filing out?”

Lip gave a small smile and motioned up the stairs. “Have a good night, little brother.”

The door was shut before Ian could try and argue. With his jeans unbuttoned and his top still bare, he made his way back up to the second floor, tossing his towel in the hamper as he went. Walking inside the bedroom he shared with Carl, he froze just inside the doorway. Mickey was sitting on the edge of the bed, dressed in jeans and a grey sweater, watching him in silence.

“I don’t…,” Ian started. “How the fuck are you here right now?”

“I got released early,” Mickey replied, rising to his feet. “After you left, some shit about overcrowding. They fucking released me.”

The smile that Ian gave him made Mickey hate himself for lying even more. Before he could open his mouth and stumble through his words, Ian closed the distance and crashed their lips together. Losing himself in the feeling, Mickey let his hands trail upwards against the toned chest until his fingers locked behind Ian’s neck.

“Fuck,” Ian cursed as he tore his lips away. “Fuck, I can’t believe you’re here right now.”

“Ian,” Mickey started, licking his bruised lips.

Instead of answering, Ian leaned in and swallowed his tongue, the heated kiss making Mickey groan between them.

“We can talk after,” Ian panted, lowering his hands down the back of Mickey’s jeans. “I need to fuck you right now.”

Squeezing hard, he pulled his hands out and tore at Mickey’s sweater, yanking it off with a bright smile. When his fingers finally touched the warm skin and his gaze fell on the ring chained around Mickey’s neck, his smile grew soft. Leaning in, he pressed their foreheads together, inhaling the smell that felt like home. Moving Mickey back towards the bed, they tore at the rest of their clothes before they fell down on the mattress. Climbing on top, Ian lowered himself down, both moaning from the touch.

“Hold on,” he panted, reaching to the nightstand to grab a bottle of lube. “Got the good stuff. No more mayonnaise.”

“You really gonna fucking bring that up right now?” Mickey growled.

Cutting him off mid sentence, Ian pressed their lips together, his tongue swiping through Mickey’s mouth as he spread the lube across his fingers. Reaching between them, he pushed a finger in and groaned when Mickey arched his back from the touch.

“Fuck, I missed you,” Ian whispered, trailing his lips across Mickey’s neck and shoulders as he slid a second finger in.

“I’m good, just get in me,” Mickey panted, pushing his hand away.

Lining himself up, he caged Mickey’s head in with his arms. When his body lowered down, he slid inside with a single thrust, swallowing Mickey’s moan as he slipped his tongue back inside the warm mouth. Clinging onto each other’s bodies, they rocked together back and forth, the dim light overhead shining across.

“Fuck, Ian,” Mickey whispered, voice catching on his name.

Reaching for his boyfriend’s legs, Ian pulled them up until they were wrapped around his back.

“Fuck, we never…,” Mickey started but lost his own words when Ian picked up the brutal pace.

“We’re doing it this way now,” he growled, a possessiveness building inside him as he watched Mickey fall apart. “Fuck, Mick, I love you.”

Hearing the words felt like a stab to Mickey’s gut. Wanting to silence the thoughts that raged through his mind, he pulled Ian’s face down to his own, letting their lips crash together in a bruising kiss. Their bodies rocked against the sheets, hands clinging, a sheen of sweat covering their skin. Five more thrusts and Mickey spilled between them, his broken moan pushing Ian off the edge just behind. Breathing together, chests pressed tight, Ian leaned up on his elbows to kiss him with a gentle touch.

“Welcome home,” he smiled and slowly pulled out.

Grabbing the first discarded clothing he could find, he wiped them down and pulled the covers on top, turning their bodies so he was spooning Mickey from behind. He pressed a kiss against Mickey’s throat and snuggled closer, blissed out as he closed his eyes. When Ian’s breathing evened and his eyes stayed shut, Mickey stared through the window at the darkness outside. The feeling of dread returned as he pressed his face against the pillow, realizing the choice he'd be making when morning arrived.


End file.
